


Good Things

by Garden_holic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, Dean’s POV, Established Relationship, F/M, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Polyamory, Pregnancy, chubby!reader, everyone is bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 15:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20428556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garden_holic/pseuds/Garden_holic
Summary: Dean was drinking when she walked back out of the motel bathroom. Cold condensation ran down from the bottle, fingers wet and slippery against the glass, the beads of liquid teasing the rooms third occupant. He slipped his foot along the vampires calf, sending him a cheeky smile before reaching out an arm for their girl. His breath hitched at the sight of her.





	Good Things

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is my first fic here! I’m excited! Have fun and tell me what you think!

Dean was drinking when she walked back out of the motel bathroom. Cold condensation ran down from the bottle, fingers wet and slippery against the glass, the beads of liquid teasing the rooms third occupant. He slipped his foot along the vampires calf, sending him a cheeky smile before reaching out an arm for their girl. His breath hitched at the sight of her.

She’d left her hair down, a soft blush making her glow warm in the dim light. Soft lace hugged her curves, hiding and accenting. The color reminded him of candy— like the wine she liked, but they couldn’t get often. He wished they could though. 

Her blush deepened at the soft, breathy “oh” that came from beside him. Dean glanced at Benny, licking his lip between his teeth. The vampire was smiling softly—appreciatively— at their third, not quiet lustful, more admiring. 

Dean looked back at her, words still sealed in his chest. She looked like a dream. He almost missed her words, the uncertainty in her eyes.   
“... too much?” she whispered, taking an unconscious step backwards to the bathroom. To a shower. To pretending this had never happened.

Her name fell from his lips like a prayer and he nearly tripped standing. She was never uncertain. Never unsure. In all his years as a hunter, she and Benny were the things that had kept him steady. He repeated her name, finally finding his balance and the smile he felt in his chest.   
“You’re beautiful.” The words weren’t the ones he’d wanted, but from the deeper blush, the little more shy, less uncertain shine in her eyes, they had worked. 

Benny nodded in agreement, soft lips parting for his velvet tongue. A sweep of pink and a swallow. “Look like a dream, mon Cher.” He was more confident in these moments than Dean, reminding the hunter that he’d been married before. He was less surprised by these things, not that he appreciated them any less.

She smiled softly and stepped forward, less shy with the praise. She was so certain— so ready— with the kinkier things they’d done, and Dean wondered how the three of them had been together so many years without ever getting her in something this... this gorgeous. She was so shy, so genuinely shy with this. The sheer babydoll top she wore was lovely, giving them a thrilling peek of the lace underneath, but was surprisingly modest despite everything. 

Dean found his tongue again. “Give us a twirl, sweetheart,” he leaned back against the cheap motel table, letting his hand brush Benny’s. His eyes were soft. 

She gathered herself with a small breath, finding the confidence he knew she had. Her blush faded a bit and she smiled at both of them, swaying her softness covered hips as she turned for them, letting her hands trace her waist. 

Benny stood silently, leaning up beside Dean. “So beautiful,” he murmured. 

She had never been like the usual girls Dean went for, all straight and sharp and angles and didn’t remember his name, even though they’d screamed it the night before. Maybe that was why they had made it so far. She was all swell and softness and hardened muscle beneath with bones that had probably known as many breaks as his own. Her scars reflected his. Her spirit reflected his. And Benny... Benny was the glue that held them together. Sometimes Dean found it almost impossible to tell where either of them ended and another began. 

The hunter was smiling widely when she finally faced them once more, eyes dropping to the smooth curve of her belly. None of them knew whether the baby in there was his or Benny’s, but they weren’t sure they cared anyway. They could both be dad. And Dean, well... he just loved that she stayed. That she wanted this as much as they did. 

Benny pushed off the table, stepping forward to take her hand. “Shall we?” He slipped his hand to her hip with a smile, dancing her playfully and twirling her. He loved her as much as he loved Dean. She was laughing a little, relaxing back into her skin, back into being the deadly, confident hunter he knew her to be. 

Dean was lost watching them. It seemed so intimate and he almost felt like he was intruding. She caught his eyes with a wide smile, beckoning him over with a soft, strong hand. He wasn’t intruding. They both wanted him there. 

“C’mon, chief, don’t make us come get ya,” the vampire said with his playful Cajun drawl. 

Dean smiled as he stepped over to them, letting their hands pull him flush against her back, feet finding the unheard rhythm they were swaying to. His hand rested on the supple curve of her hip, the other tangling in Benny’s shirt. 

The Cajun Vampire met his gaze over her head, cornflower blues soft and filled with so much love. His hand found Dean’s, holding it carefully as the three of them slow danced on the scratchy motel carpet. 

Dean realized that Benny had been shifting them towards the bed when his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He stumbled onto it with a soft giggle he’d never admit to. He stared up at their smiling faces for a second before reaching out arms. “C’mere, gorgeous.” He wasn’t sure which one he was talking to, but they both responded.

Her name tumbled from his lips as she straddled his thighs, letting her cool hands rest over his hips. Benny slipped behind her, tucking his face against the softness of her throat. He would never hurt her.

Dean sat up, stealing a soft kiss. His fingers stroked her side and tangled in Ben’s hair, tugging the vampire up for a kiss of his own. 

Her eyes were shiny in the dim light. Her hands traced their skin, fingers hungrily fighting with buttons. She’d never been one to turn down a good time, but since she was pregnant, she was borderline insatiable. Dean knew it was something to do with hormones or something, but he didn’t care.   
“Dean,” she was beginning to get frustrated with his shirt, so Benny reached over to help. He stripped the flannel straight over Dean’s head, not bothering with the buttons at all. 

Dean huffed a small laugh, shifting himself backwards and out from under his lovers. He wanted this slow. Wanted to take his time and taste her. Taste Benny.

He leaned forward and stole another soft kiss from her. She always chased him for a second, no matter how long the kiss. It was one of her habits he adored. “Lay down for us,” he requested playfully. He patted the bed beside him. 

Benny quirked an eyebrow, but let her go. He watched the swaying curve of her ass as she crawled up the bed, and— with a wink at Dean— planted a nipping kiss on her dimpled ass cheek. 

She jumped softly and squealed, the high sound falling into laughter. “*Ben*,” she tried— and failed— to sound stern. She wiggled her butt playfully as she moved up the bed, dropping to her back beside Dean. 

She was gorgeous all laid out like that, all hidden strength and soft lace colored like the inside of a cherry pie. “Hi,” she smiled lazily up at him. Her foot stroked the inside of Benny’s thick thigh. 

Dean gave another giggle that didn’t happen and tangled his fingers with hers. “Hi,” he said back. 

He looked down the bed where the vampire waited patiently and held out his hand. “C’mere, babe.” 

The brawny Cajun leaned up to kiss him, fingers tracing the freckles on his chest. Dean had never been built like Sam, all muscle and angles and rabbit food. No. A lifetime of diner burgers and hunting had left him steel-strong, but soft around the middle, just enough fat covering his abs so they weren’t defined. But it suited him. And Benny seemed to love it, always cooking for him and her. 

Her hand joined the vampires, stroking over his belly and through the soft curls of his treasure trail. He shivered at the soft touches. 

His hands found them, seeking out their sweet spots. Making love with them always felt like the first time. Hands and lips on soft skin, drawing out little quivers, soft little breaths, and that wonderful gasp of “Dean” that had his body singing. 

It never mattered who was giving or receiving, just that those soft strokes and little “ah”s that burst out never stopped. 

Dean loved it. Loved them. Loved how when they were all sated and happy and giggly, it was just a tangle of limbs and kisses and his heart felt so full. He felt loved. And he loved them back so much. 

And if later that night, when he felt their baby move for the first time, tears burned his green-eyes, no one judged him. No one did anything but mirror his own reaction.

It was the three of them against the world. They were his good thing.


End file.
